Worn and Faded
by BeautifulMorningStar
Summary: Warning! Contains femslash. Abby ponders what her life has been so far, as she waits for someone she's finally decided to face on her own terms. Will her addiction to this person, and their power struggle, reveal far more about her foggy past than she expected? Turns out rather angsty. Also Abby/Hoagie. Rated M for mature situations, hinting at more than just making out.


A/N : FEMSLASH! Just warning you, in case you don't like girl-on-girl stuff. Overall, been wanting to write one between these two, in the future when Heinrich finally gets his curse lifted and turns back to his rightful self. Or should I say, her rightful self. xD Abby may seem rather OOC here, but that's because she's meant to be portrayed as someone who's rather lost, and clinging onto one shred of her past she's desperate to keep. Enjoy :D

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The light, pastel-coloured streaks in the sky faded slowly away, as a pair of thoughtful dark eyes surveyed the heavens. Sixteen-year-old Abigail Lincoln stood outside on her porch, leaning against the wall as she waited. The cool, spunky kid who used to slink around as the official spy for the Kids Next Door, Sector V, had blossomed into a beautiful young woman.

Having shot up to a full five feet eight, Abby now wore a black, sleeveless crop top that bared her midriff and a pair of denim shorts, with an open, dark blue zipper jacket on top. Her wavy, kinky hair was long and loose, and the only thing she had retained from the old days – her red cap – sat perched on her head, tilted sideways.

Being the beautiful, popular girl that all the boys wanted to date was a position Abby's older sister Cree had easily held (and still did), and Abby felt a strong reluctance to follow in her footsteps. She wanted to be someone on her own, something different – not the younger sister who turned out just like Cree. So, while she did turn out to be gorgeous, well liked among her peers and easily a head-turner for the guys, Abby did not join all the clubs and cliques where Cree had made a name for herself.

Instead, she had worked her way up to editor of her high school newsletter, having a knack for sneaking around and finding out interesting things, no matter how hard people tried to hide them. She was also on the girls' basketball team, which was doing as well as the boys', as far as regional competitions went. This pretty much kept her social life busy, but not overwhelmingly so, and her grades were pretty good, although not the overachieving sort.

Abby didn't have the bubbly personality her transfer student friend Kuki Sanban had; she wasn't particularly loud or attention-seeking like some of Cree's best gal pals; Abby was usually quiet until you got to know her well enough for her comfortable, witty side to make an appearance. This ensured that her circle of friends, not small but not as wide as Cree's, were all rather close to her in one way or another; but even they felt, at times, as if Abby was never exactly a hundred percent there.

Her best friends at school, Kuki, Sierra and Anjali would catch her spacing out, which was normal enough during boring classes, but certainly not during the middle of their dramatic conversations or silly shenanigans. Abby also had the disconcerting habit of disappearing for hours at a time, returning with some excuse that usually involved the journalism club, some forgotten item or – and this last reason was usually the one the other girls tended to believe – her two-year boyfriend, Hoagie P. Gilligan.

As the sunset died, Abby smiled faintly as her musing shifted from her best friends to the lovable boy obsessed with becoming a pilot. Fond thoughts of her ridiculously geeky, and yet totally adorable boyfriend invaded her head.

Hoagie and Abby had met at a music store when they were nearly fourteen. They had been instantly and undeniably attracted to each other, Abby laughing slightly as Hoagie had stuttered out an invitation to visit the latest café in the area. Needless to say, although the two didn't exactly have mountains in common with each other, they each found themselves liking the other, wanting to know more; each wanting to get _involved_ in the world of the other. After countless more outings, Hoagie had finally asked her to be his girl, and she hadn't hesitated with her happy response… after all, the connection between them was unbelievably strong, almost as if it had been built on years of friendship.

They had been peacefully together ever since. Although Abby did have to work on curbing Hoagie's tendency towards making horrible jokes, and Hoagie had learnt quickly to dodge Abby's weapon of choice in such situations – her red cap.

"Daydreaming again, _Mein_ _Fräulein_?"

Abby jumped a little at the sudden intrusion, not having noticed the arrival of the person who spoke. She turned her head bemusedly to face the tall, flaxen-haired trespasser who now stood a couple of feet away from her, a bit put out that anyone had managed to creep up beside her like that.

"Nahh, just waitin' for you to show up." Abby looked her visitor up and down, appreciating what she saw. "I can see why you're so late – decided to clean up nice tonight, huh?"

A low chuckle and a smirk. "Vell, what can I say? I was in ze mood."

"Well, alright… come on in then, oh Stylish One."

The two teenagers proceeded into the house, where one gloved hand "accidentally" brushed against Abby's back, sending a little shiver down her spine. She held her breath; it had been two months since she had kept herself away from her addiction, but once again the craving had won out, and now here she was – invitingly leading her stalker into her home.

Said stalker suddenly pulled firmly on Abby's hand from behind, just as they reached the foot of the stairs. Abby barely managed to turn around before she was shoved roughly against the wall, her back making contact with painted drywall. She registered one gloved hand brushing her long, ebony hair away from her face as another wrapped around her throat. The next thing she knew, her lips had been claimed rather possessively, and the little fight she put up soon melted into blissful acquiescence.

The dry, heated kiss ended after a couple of minutes, and the blond pulled away, breathing heavily. Icy blue eyes found clouded onyx ones, both pairs heavily-lidded with desire. The owner of the wintry eyes suddenly cracked a smirk, and Abby scowled slightly when she saw it. _Forever with the power games_, she thought with a sniff, before pulling herself adamantly away and continuing up the staircase. She didn't acknowledge to herself how excited she felt, how absolutely thrilled she was that she had gotten a little taste of the dangerous pleasures she was about to dive into yet again.

She felt an arm snake itself around her waist from behind and sighed. "Can we at least make it to my room first?"

There was a short silence before the arm withdrew and she got her abrupt reply. "_Ja_, fine."

The rest of the hurried journey to Abby's bedroom passed without any sort of sneak attacks. She watched as her visitor entered and plopped down on her bed, staring at the little picture frames on her bedside table. She could feel the anticipation building up in the core of her being, although this time _she_ had made the first contact; _she_ had sent out the invitation. Usually she just avoided her dedicated stalker until the hunter's breaking point, when an attack and short battle would ensue, which Abby always made sure to eventually lose – the prospect of what awaited her defeat always kept her perfectly willing to go along with their little tradition.

She turned and shut her door, suddenly unsure of what to do next. Her movements were slow as she tried to calm the quick beating of her heart that reverberated throughout her entire being, but she refused to admit to herself how nervous she was. Abigail Lincoln was too cool for that shit.

This time, she caught the movements behind her before she was suddenly pressed up against her door, the person pushing into her back breathing in the scent of her hair. There was a satisfied sigh, but still the hunter did not release the hold on her wrists, or lessen the force that had Abby trapped against the back of her own bedroom door.

"Abigail," the voice was low and serious. "You haff too many pictures off zat stupid boy. Just _looking_ at zem makes me sick."

Abby's frame suddenly tensed up, and her eyes narrowed. She did not want to think about Hoagie right now, and mentioning him had been a big mistake on the other's part.

"Really, Heiny, it ain't any of your damned _business_ how many pictures I have of my boyfriend."

Abby heard an angry hiss and the pressure digging into her back increased rather dramatically. She bit back a yelp and started wriggling off to the side, trying to free herself. She managed an awkward, backwards kick that made contact, and the fingers clamped around her hands suddenly vanished with a grunt. She darted off to the other side of her room, warily surveying the angry teenager she now faced.

Henrietta von Marzipan was quite the looker, even when her lovely blue eyes were narrowed into angry slits. Her straight blonde hair, usually up in a ponytail, was down, the tips grazing her shoulders. Her usual getup of red ascot, long-sleeved green shirt and long khaki pants had been traded in for a knee-length, fitting black dress, in honour of the occasion.

She had never had Abigail willingly call her to her house for their forbidden little romance, never had her stutter over the phone as she gave the transparent reason of hooking up. Although the phone call had shocked her considerably, it had soon turned into a small victory for her – the prey was now coming to her. Abby had _asked_ her to come, had wanted her to arrive and… carry on their little game.

The surprising turn of events had been enough to make her feel like a little change, although she still wore her brown jacket on top, a total clash with the elegant black dress underneath. She had also kept her gloves and boots on… after all, she didn't want Abby to think she was getting carried away.

"Now, now Abigail…" Henrietta's monocle flashed dangerously in the dim light. The very last of the day's light was barely filtering in through the blinds, and Abby suddenly wished she had remembered to turn on the lights. The near darkness only made Henrietta seem more menacing.

"Why do you always hafta mention Hoagie?" Abby demanded angrily. "As if it ain't bad enough that I'm doin' this to him in the first place…" Her voice trailed off bitterly, loaded with sadness, frustration and guilt. She could feel her eyes start to moisten but she resolutely blinked away any impending tears.

"Abigail…" With a sigh, Henrietta moved around the bed towards her friend, her foe, her constant obsession. How could she possibly explain how much she hated that Gilligan boy, for the unforgivable reason that he was in a stable relationship with her Abigail?

Abby moved cautiously away as the other girl got closer. Henrietta had a tendency of surprising you with sudden bursts of emotion, which somehow just made her better at ambushes. It also made her a better kisser, with all that bottled-up passion.

"_Liebchen_, I am sorry." Henrietta stated flatly; apologies were never easy for her where Hoagie was concerned. "It is not easy for me, knowing zat…" she paused. Abby looked at her curiously, barely discerning her expression in the dimness.

Henrietta stared unseeingly at Abby's bed. "Zere is no picture off me at all."

Abby remained motionless for a moment, suddenly understanding something she hadn't truly allowed herself to consider before. She thought back to all those times Henrietta had spent, ambushing her and luring her into fights, just so that she could end up on top of her, restraining her as she kissed her senseless. They had become friends again when Heinrich had gone back to being Henrietta, but the blonde had retained traces of her vengeful former self, which showed whenever the two friends broke into arguments.

After Abby's thirteenth birthday, the two of them hadn't seen each other for a long time. That is, until a year ago, when Henrietta had moved to America and started her favourite pastime of Abby-hunting.

Abby quietly moved to her bed, and sat down as she felt under her Mysterious Purple Rainbow Monkey for something. Henrietta just watched as she pulled something flat out from underneath the plushie, then stumbled across the room to switch on a lamp. The sudden presence of bright yellow light made both girls blink, but then Henrietta caught sight of what Abby was holding out to her, and her jaw dropped.

It was a photograph, slightly worn from constant handling, of herself with Abigail. It had been taken years ago when they were both kids, two candyhunters out to take on the world, that special time before Henrietta had been cursed. Henrietta took it, her gloved fingers firmly holding onto its edges, as she gazed at the little window back into the past.

Abby watched as Heiny stared at the picture in her grip. That picture had been taken a very long time ago, way before they had met a year ago, way before Heinrich, way before – Abby's head hurt slightly. As usual, _something_ kept her memory from reaching back as far as she would've liked.

Disregarding her headache, she closed the distance between herself and Heiny, and as those pretty eyes turned up towards her own, she gazed into them unapologetically. "I found it one day before you first re-appeared in my life. There's a picture of you, Heiny."

The photograph fluttered to the floor as Henrietta grabbed fistfuls of Abby's dark blue jacket, her lips crashing onto the taller, darker girl's mouth. Abby gasped into the kiss, and the other girl seized the opportunity to stick her tongue into Abby's mouth. Abby's hands clutched at the other girl's arms, and she stiffened at the sudden intrusion. Just as quickly as Henrietta had pounced on her, she suddenly let go.

"You remember, don't you?" She panted.

Abigail nodded dazedly. "Yes."

Henrietta suddenly shoved Abby backwards, and the usually cool, collected girl fell back onto her bed with a yell. She had barely managed to sit up before the other girl was suddenly seated on her thighs, yanking at her blue jacket.

"Take it _off_." It was a command more than anything else.

Abby quickly obeyed, wondering when exactly she had become so needy of the other girl that she was so ready to please her. Her train of thought derailed as that other girl planted her mouth on her own again, firmly. Abby started picking at Heiny's heavy brown jacket as the blond threw her own blue windbreaker aside. She pushed Abby's fingers away, shrugging off the brown jacket in one motion and throwing that aside too.

"_Mein Schatz_," she looked straight into the beautiful dark eyes of her friend, foe and total obsession. "You know how much I love candy, yet you always run away from me, _Mein_ chocolate." She ran her gloved fingers up Abby's bare arms, making her shiver, and the red cap perched stubbornly on Abby's head finally fell off. She leaned forward and whispered into Abigail's ear, "Zere is nowhere left to run, Abigail."

"I ain't runnin' anymore, Heiny," Abby breathed, and the two of them met again at the lips.

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Abby woke with a slight jolt, as someone else in her bed shifted with a few unintelligible words. She felt a small bubble of panic rise at the realization that she was clad only in her lingerie, wrapped in the arms of another person under the sheets. She turned her head drowsily, and felt suddenly calm and even peaceful as she caught sight of the blond locks and the displaced monocle. She spent a few moments admiring how nice Henrietta looked while she was asleep, all threat and cunning erased from her features.

She sat up slightly, wary of the arms holding possessively onto her waist. Glancing at the alarm clock, she stifled a groan and a yawn. Four in the morning, thank goodness her parents were out of town for the weekend. As for Cree, well, she had her own boyfriend's house to sneak into and worry about. Abby thought suddenly of Hoagie, and her eyes turned to the framed pictures of him on her bedside table.

She felt a slight pang in her chest and her eyes stung suddenly. She _had_ remembered; the moment she met fourteen-year-old Hoagie, she had suddenly started getting scrambled flashbacks. But he hadn't had an inkling, he had been so joyfully clueless, that she had doubted her own sanity. Of course they hadn't met before, she ended up thinking, she probably just wanted to believe that the two of them knew each other longer than they did.

Meeting Kuki Sanban had brought on another dose of headaches, but it was when she found that picture of Henrietta and herself that Abby had truly started plummeting towards a shaky realization that everything was dreadfully wrong. Then, an older Henrietta von Marzipan had actually entered her life, as real as day, and Abby had been sure. She wasn't hallucinating, it was all real.

However she tried to get Hoagie to remember, though, always seemed to fail. She had tried subtle hints at first, then more obvious nudging, but he recalled nothing. Even Kuki didn't seem to remember anything.

It came to a point that Abigail started to welcome the strange little attacks the new Henrietta conducted on her. At least it was something achingly familiar.

She raised a shaking hand to her damp face, as she looked away from a framed photograph of Hoagie. He would never remember. It was a miracle that even she could.

The arms that had been around her a moment ago loosened and fell away, and for a moment all was silent. Then a sleepy, concerned whisper sighed out, "Abigail?"

Abby let out a dry sob. She covered her face with her hands, desperate not to let anyone see her tough demeanor so shaken. If her sanity was thoroughly intact, then she had once been an expert spy, after all. She felt Henrietta sit up beside her, and felt the other girl's arms slide around her trembling shoulders, one of those hands still wearing a thick brown glove.

"It's okay, _liebchen_," The whispering voice assured her. "It'll be okay…"

"Heinrich…" Abby snuggled into the embrace of her friend, her crying starting to die down already. She rested her head against one of those lean, feminine shoulders, then corrected herself.

"I'm sorry… _Henrietta_."

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A/N : Well, yeah, I'm glad I got this out of my system ^_^" I think these two are perfect to write about, whether it's femslash or Abby/Heinrich. Anyways, yeah Abby's OOC, but she is older here, and her teenage years have been filled with some major confusion. Half-absent memories plaguing her, constant attacks from a familiar stranger, not to mention making out with this stranger, oh who happens to be female. Making her question her sexuality a bit, perhaps? Although I still think she met Hoagie and the two of them fell in love.

Well, I'll shut up now. Review please, if you liked it! I love hearing from you. Thanks for reading :)


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